It hadn't taken Vlad Masters more than a year to realize how childish it was to antagonize a teenager. It took him less time than that to acknowledge that he really shouldn't keep up such enmity, when he and Daniel were two of a kind (save Danielle, but she's never been quite the same). It pays to have an ally in the only other person who can share your experiences.
They are not—friends. It's hardly even an allyship, really, though they're trying to work their way there. It's more a sporting rivalry; they antagonize each other, but not with the same venom. He'd say it's almost fond, on his end, if he were willing to acknowledge that.
They aren't close, though, so when young Daniel Fenton shows up on his doorstep, Samantha and Tucker in tow, it is rather a surprise.
"Daniel?" he asks, shifting his gaze between the three of them. They are not fidgeting in the way that children who have done something wrong and are trying to hide it are wont to do, but these particular children would probably be adept at hiding such tells, anyway. No, they look almost worried. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"You could say that?" he replies, and it's more a question than a statement. "Can we come in?"
"I suppose," Vlad acquiesces, stepping back to allow them entry. The three of them shuffle in, Vlad's butler closing the door behind them and exiting without needing to be directed to—Vlad loves his staff, truly; they know their roles well—as he stands before the trio and waits for them to state their purpose.
There's the expected exchange of nervous glances before Samantha, clearly fed up, rolls her eyes and steps forward. "We have questions about halfa biology. You've studied yourself, right?" Vlad's eyebrows raise.
"What, specifically, are you asking about?" he asks delicately, and sends Tucker a sharp look when the boy snickers, his mind clearly in the gutter.
Samantha nudges Daniel, who huffs a sigh and glances around the foyer before transforming. Vlad's eyebrows raise further as he reaches up to tug his lips back, baring his teeth, showing off a distinct, though not prominent, set of fangs.
"Why is he growing them now?" Samantha asks. "That's not the only thing, either." She pokes Daniel again, who, reluctantly, sticks out his tongue. It's thinner than a human's should be, and at the end, it seems as though it's beginning to split.
"Interesting," Vlad says without really being aware he speaks it. He's slipping into his scientist mindset; before him is no longer Maddie's son but a curiosity, an opportunity for research.
(An experiment, he thinks automatically. He pushes this thought away. He… values Daniel too much for that.)
"Come with me." Vlad gestures them all to trail behind him without offering further explanation. He leads them to the fireplace, above which stands his golden football-shaped lever. Pulling it—and resisting the urge to hide its purpose; it's not as though the children don't already know of it—he leads them down the short, sterile steel steps into his ectobiological laboratory.
His lab is spotless, as all places of scientific study should be. Apart from the counters and wheeled table in the center of the room, the walls are lined with shelving and cold storage, on and in which lie scientific instruments, ectoplasm samples, research notes. There are tools meant for dissection, inspection, analysis. There are books of notes concerning ghost biology, and a fair few more concerning halfa biology, or at least what he's been able to glean from his own body—there is a disappointingly small sample size to observe, and it's not as though he can dissect himself. Once he might have toyed with the idea of dissecting Danielle, but Daniel would flay him if he did, and none of the other clones were stable enough (perfect enough) to even attempt such an operation.
"Sit," Vlad orders, patting the table in the middle. He locks its wheels so that it will not roll, and then moves off to grab a magnifying glass. On his way back, he grabs some of his notes as well.
Daniel, still in his ghost form, has obeyed him and hopped up onto the table, though he looks supremely uncomfortable. Samantha and Tucker stand by, watching him, their eyes hawk-like. Neither of Daniel's young friends have quite gotten over their distrust of him, and he wouldn't expect them to. His and Daniel's tentative relationship has broken down a few times in the past three years. The road has been more than rocky.
"Open your mouth," he says, and Daniel does, though his discomfort visibly mounts. Vlad reaches for his face, then, pausing, steps back to pull on a pair of nondescript medical gloves before repeating the motion. Daniel appears minutely more willing to be touched with the gloves on.
Gently, Vlad takes the boy's face in his hands and pulls back his lip, gazing at the teeth in question. It's not just them, though they are the most noticeable—his smaller teeth, to either side of those concerned, are steadily sharpening, to accommodate for the new shape and function of the initial four. Vlad picks up the magnifying glass, using it to look more closely.
Because ghosts are made up of ectoplasm and intention, their bodies are far less complex than living beings'; he need not examine Daniel down to the molecular, and there are no cells to examine at all. Rather, he can watch with a mere magnifying glass as the physical form Phantom takes re-shapes itself, gradually but steadily.
It is possible to intentionally change one's physical appearance as a ghost, all at once. Most ghosts don't, comfortable in the appearance they had formed with. Daniel's body, however, is changing independently of his will. It's quite akin to the way young ghosts grow—as their consciousness asserts itself, it slowly determines what shape is most comfortable. The phenomenon is why all ghosts start as green blobs. It's entirely likely that, because Daniel is still growing up, and his own perception of himself is in flux, his ghost form is changing to reflect that. A short, similar examination of Daniel's tongue reveals the same.
"Would you like the short answer, or the long answer?" Vlad asks, stepping back, peeling his gloves off and disposing of them.
"Short," Daniel says, at the same time Samantha says, "Long." Vlad's lip quirks in amusement.
"Well, in short, you're going through puberty," he tells them, and it's with quite some pleasure that he watches Daniel's brain buffer, taking that statement in. His cheeks color—the green blushing is always a tad startling to Vlad, no matter how many times he sees it, in the mirror or otherwise—and Vlad smirks.
"Um, long, please," Daniel says. It's closer to a squeak than words.
"You, being a teenager, do not have a fully mature ghost form. If I'm correct, and I'm quite sure I am, Phantom's appearance will continue to change until your self-image is more stable, which will likely not be until your mid to late twenties." Vlad glances at Samantha and Tucker. He hadn't been paying much attention to them, but the same was clearly not true for them. They seem to hang on to his every word, each paying more rapt attention than Vlad would expect Daniel himself to pay. "As you've gained a solid grasp on your power and limits, I hypothesize that you've come to view yourself as more dangerous. Your form is changing to reflect that, though why it views fangs and a forked tongue as intimidating, I do not know. It's likely subconscious."
He refocuses on Daniel, and stops. The boy is pale, his mouth shut tight. Tucker moves over from where he'd been hovering to stand next to him, his side pressed to Daniel's knee.
"Is there something I do not know?" Vlad asks, his voice low.
"Yes, and it's none of your business, fruit loop," Samantha hisses, belatedly coming to stand on Daniel's other side. She places a hand on his knee, turning fully away from Vlad to lean in and whisper something soothing. Daniel ignores it.
"It kinda is his business, though," Daniel says, and a strangled chuckle escapes him. He does not elaborate.
"They're not the same and you know it, Danny," Tucker says, shooting a glance at Vlad before placing his attention firmly on Daniel. "Come on, we should go." He tries to tug the boy out of his stupor, but stops when Vlad places a hand on his shoulder.
"I really would rather you not leave before I understand the issue," he insists coldly. At the change in his tone and posture, both Samantha and Tucker turn to face him, Tucker shaking off Vlad's hand. Both of their expressions harden, their body language clearly shielding Daniel, protecting him. It would be cute, if Vlad were not so irritated. Despite the power imbalance, they still move to hide him, as if they could do anything against a half-ghost on their own.
"Like she said. It's none of your business," Tucker says in a voice as dangerous as he can make it. If Vlad were thirteen, maybe it'd be scary. But Tucker is so very small compared to Vlad, and a human is so fragile compared to a ghost.
They're both prepared to fight him. Physically, without weapons—for of course he'd checked they were unarmed when they came in—and without any strategy, on his home turf, they're prepared to take him on. For Daniel, over some tidbit of information Vlad wants to know.
Their resolution is startling enough to make Vlad take a mental step back, reassessing the situation. Samantha's hand is still on one of Daniel's knees, Tucker's hip still pressed to the other. Daniel has either shut down or is willfully ignoring the situation; given the unlikeliness of the latter, Vlad's sure it's the former. He's comfortable enough with them to cede control, despite his marked tendency to take responsibility even, and especially, where he does not have to. This is more than concealing something medical. Daniel's friends are prepared to lay down everything to protect not just Daniel, but something he knows. Judging from his present state, something he doesn't want to dredge up.
Vlad sighs, and physically steps back, in a gesture that is closer to being the bigger person than giving in. Samantha and Tucker, both bristled like cats, don't relax, but Daniel does, visibly so. As his attention shifts to the boy, so do Samantha and Tucker's, and they shoot wary glances back at Vlad before turning fully to Daniel.
"Danny?" Tucker murmurs, and it's like he wakes up.
"I'm good," Daniel mutters back, blinking, clenching his hands into fists. "It's—I'm alright. Don't kill him." It's clearly meant to be a joke, but there's some seriousness to it.
Vlad does not doubt that, if Daniel asked, his friends would genuinely commit murder for him. This should be a startling realization. As it is, though, Vlad has long been more comfortable than is right with the concept of death, and Daniel would never ask for such a thing anyway, what with how he plays at being the hero.
"Vlad?" Daniel meets his eyes.
"Yes?"
"Did—was Plasmius formed differently? Or have you always looked like that?"
Once, this might have been a personal question. Vlad might've refused to answer, thinking that the factor of intimidation he'd tried so hard to cultivate would be lost with the knowledge. Even now, he feels a strange reluctance to give it away.
But the way Daniel is looking at him—pleading, begging, this desperate hope for understanding, the root of which Vlad could not know—is arresting. Of course Vlad's going to tell him. It's like he knew all along that he would.
"My ghost form was different, initially," he says, nodding. "Plasmius wore the hospital gown, colors inverted like your jumpsuit, that I had on when I succumbed to my ecto-acne. It was not an immediate change, after the portal. My hair was down, as well, and my eyes looked more like yours—only the iris was red."
"And your skin?' Daniel asks, voice small.
"My skin was always blue," he says. Daniel cringes, though from what, Vlad does not know.
"What changed?"
"An emaciated man in a hospital gown does not exactly inspire fear, little badger," Vlad says, and Daniel chuckles, just slightly. The sound makes all of them relax; Vlad hadn't been aware how much the tension was once again rising. "I wanted to appear more intimidating. I willed them to change, and they did."
Daniel's eyes widen. "You can do that?"
"I could. As far as I can tell, though, it's a talent reserved for mature ghosts. Younger spirits—and by that I mean recently formed ones, true age isn't usually a factor—tend not to be able to control the changes, since they're still in flux. I assume the same would apply to you," Vlad says, and he deflates a little.
"Oh."
They stand around awkwardly, then, nothing else to say. After a moment, Samantha takes a breath, and says, "We should go."
"Yeah," Tucker agrees, quickly. He reaches up to tug at Daniel's wrist, who follows the motion without complaint, sliding off the table and to the floor. He detransforms, and Samantha and Tucker both make for the door, him not far behind. Vlad just watches them go, sure they can find their way out. Then, at the stairs, Daniel stops, and turns back around.
"Sorry to bother you with this," he says suddenly, uncharacteristically. Samantha and Tucker pause on the stairs, too.
Vlad says nothing.
"I'll tell you eventually, I think," Daniel continues, though his face is twisted like he would rather do anything else.
"Go home, Daniel," Vlad says quietly. The silence in the laboratory afterward is ringing.
His gaze is drawn up to Samantha and Tucker, who look not at Daniel but at him. There's something different, now, in the way they're regarding him. He doesn't know what prompted it, or what convinced them. But the air is less hostile. The tension in their postures has just slightly uncurled.
"Come on, Danny," Tucker says softly, turning to start upwards once more.
And despite all the nameless things it seems Daniel wants to say, without reluctance, he goes.